The Snippet Series #1: Because of Who I Am

History has an odd way of repeating itself.


 

People have called me blessed, and kind, and smart, and pretty, and wonderful. But what of it?

She’s still all you see.

If I traded myself away for a prettier girl with browner hair and fairer skin, would you learn to love the girl standing in front of you? I’ve wished I could change – finally metamorphose into a butterfly, just to capture your heart. But then you’d only be in love with a lie. It can’t ever happen. The only way you could love me is if I were to become someone else. But if I became someone else, it wouldn’t be me you’d be loving. It’s so sad, knowing that even if I had her eyes and her smile, you still wouldn’t love me. Even if I laughed with the same voice and spoke with the same words, you still wouldn’t love me. Even if I held you the same way and whispered the same sweet nothings, you still wouldn’t love me. It will always be her that those beautiful brown eyes will see. Always her face, always her hands, always her warmth.

It killed me, how it seems I never to win. I keep telling myself that as long as I’m still with you, I’d be happy. But even if you’re physically right beside me, I know you’re so far away. All you ever talk about is her, all you ever think about is her. The few minutes I get to spend with you are cluttered with thoughts of her, memories of her, stories of her. It feels like it’s not longer you I’m around; just a disgusting lovesick fool who won’t stop yakking about the only thing breaking my heart.

Is it possible to reset everything? Unweave the fate I’ve stitched? Can we go back to the days when you didn’t like anyone? Back to the days when there was just you and me, having genuine fun together, nothing complicating anything. Back before your smiles became the most bittersweet things I’ve ever tasted, back before I plunged us into this mess. Back before we didn’t fight, didn’t ditch each other, didn’t have to lie. Back when we were just friends, and neither of us wanted anything more or less.

My friends said give up. People say there are other fish in the sea. My good sense tells me there’s no going back to the past.

But will I lie to myself and say that I’m happy that way?

Will I put on a fake smile and and run after someone I don’t even want?

Everyone asks me why I hope; why I allow myself to be dragged through the mud in all the pain. Because it hasn’t ended. Because I’m not happy. Because getting my heart broken is a risk I told myself I was willing to take. That might not numb the pain, but letting go of you is not only painful, is not only leaving you hanging, but is also betraying who I am.

I know I’m pinned up against the impossible, because you will never love me the way you love her. But things don’t have to be perfect. Things don’t even have to be the same as they were before. Just stop the swelling. Stop the aching. Stop the disappointment. Stop the jealousy. Stop the self-pity. Stop the tears. My heart will go on. My love will be purified. My eyes will look on you, as you are, not with painful longing, but with wise joy. I will not let this be the end.

And though you will never love me because of who I am, I will love you because of who I am.

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